


Locked in

by gottalovev



Category: Aven - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Captivity, Claustrophobia, First Kiss, Getting Together, Kidnapping, Locked In, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oblivious, Pining, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Team to the rescue, The Good Old Days, Tony is not a fan, almost anxiety attack, resourceful Tony Stark, the team never fell apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: At a gala, Steve and Tony are drugged, kidnapped and wake up in a small cell (Tony isn't a fan). They rally up and think of a plan, but while trying to escape Tony says something that could change everything between them.





	Locked in

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration for the Iron Man Big Bang 2018 (@ironmanbigbang). Big thanks to the mods for the event!
> 
> I had the chance that @shadowolf19 chose my story to gift me some art, that you will find in the story and also through the [link to related work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101511) (And also on Tumblr soon! I will link here later) 
> 
> Please go see it and give the artist the praise he deserves :)

Steve readily admits it: he hates waiting. Sure, he can be patient… but his capacity for it is limited depending on what he's dealing with and the day he's having. No, what frustrates Steve the most is when he's stuck waiting because there's absolutely nothing else he can do.

It happened regularly pre-serum: he'd get sick and would be bedridden for days, hoping it would pass so he could move again. Then there was the War, which was frankly a lot of "hurry up and wait". The future is not much better, with red tape as present as ever. Even more frustrating is having to wait because someone needs to do their thing first, while Steve is blocked from intervening until they are done. But the worse is waiting for rescue and not being able to contribute at all.

Steve sighs and leans his head back against the cell's cement wall. He's trying to estimate how long it has been since they grabbed him and Tony at the Chaplin Award Gala. Did someone see it happen, or has anyone even noticed they are missing yet? Steve would love to know how much longer it’ll be before the bad guys manifest themselves or their friends break them free, but he's got too little to go on. Heck, he doesn't even know how long he was unconscious after the kidnapping, though from experience sedatives wear off rapidly. Tony is still out cold, though.

The night had been hot and stuffy, which happens sometimes in New York at the end of April. Add that to a packed Alice Tully Hall, and it wasn't surprising that the not-quite-tuned-yet AC didn't have enough cooling power for such an onslaught. Also the alcohol was flowing and Steve had the displeasure of hearing old rich people - and pseudo-celebrities - saying gradually more offensive remarks as 'patrons of the arts' while the glasses emptied. Seeing that Steve was about to bust a vessel, Tony had made him step outside to cool off, both literally and figuratively.

Somehow, Tony had charmed an employee to let them out on the Hall's roof where they were blessedly alone. They could still hear echoes of the Lincoln Center's courtyard nearby, though, where too many people were fake laughing and posing near the fountain. Steve remembers leaning on the roof balustrade, thinking about jumping down and running to Central Park. Surely he'd been at the Gala long enough.

"I hate these things," Steve had muttered.

"I know, buddy," Tony had said, mirroring his pose to peer down at the people as well. "Me too."

Steve had scoffed. "But you're good at it." Tony made schmoozing look so easy.

"Practice," Tony had said, winking. "Lots and lots of practice."

That's when Steve had felt a sharp pinch on the top of his shoulder, and they'd both looked incredulously at the green dart embedded there. Even though Tony had quickly pulled it out, Steve had crumbled to the ground and slipped under in a matter of seconds. It had been just long enough to see another dart hit Tony. He had felt totally helpless and his gut twisted with worry before everything went black.

He had woken up in this harshly lighted room, without shoes, jacket and belt. Next to him Tony was still out for the count, similarly undressed. He had immediately checked Tony's pulse, reassured to find it slow but nonetheless regular and strong. Steve examined their cell next, but had found little of use. It is approximately seven feet by seven, the door opens outwards with no visible hinges, and there is no vent on the ceiling, just neon lighting. No amount of pushing on the door gave results, not even a smidge. His situation assessment finished, Steve had straightened Tony's neck, back and limbs to make sure he wouldn't wake up with cramps, and sat close to him. The temptation to pull Tony's head on his lap to make him more comfortable is strong, but before he finds the courage to do it, Tony stirs awake.

"Shhh," Steve says. "Easy."

"Steve?" Tony mumbles, blinking. It takes only a second for reality to catch up to Tony, judging by how his eyes widen and the attempt to scramble to a sitting position. Steve puts a hand on Tony's chest and gently pushes to nudge him to lie back down.

"We're okay for now," he reassures.

"Fuck." Tony wipes his mouth and grimaces. "I hate that feeling. Fucking ketamine, it always makes me drool."

"You think that's what was in the darts?"

"Pretty sure. Probably mixed with Midazolam or some shit. This isn’t my first rodeo."

It doesn't sit right with Steve that Tony is familiar enough with being drugged that he can identify a sedative by the side effects. It's a sad thought in itself, but Steve hopes that at least some of that experience has been recreational.

Tony finally sits up - slowly this time - and looks around the room.

"Unmovable door?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"No other weakness?"

"Not that I could find."

He's not insulted when Tony does his own inspection. Who knows, maybe he can notice a little something that Steve missed, with that big brain of his. Sadly it's not the case and Tony eventually comes back and sits against the wall opposite of Steve, legs crossed.

"Well that's a bust."

"We'll be fine," Steve says. He believes it, too. "When the kidnappers come back, we'll know more. And meanwhile the team must be looking for us."

Resigned that there is nothing else to do, Steve leans against his wall again, closes his eyes, and waits. And waits. It takes him way too long to realize something is off.

Tony is quiet.

Of course Steve is distracted and annoyed at the situation, or maybe he's slow to wise up because there are still traces of the drug in his system, but it's only after long minutes of silence that he wonders if Tony is okay. A pang of guilt washes through him: with the serum, Steve can shake off whatever he's dozed with. Not Tony.

Tony is hunched on himself, arms wrapped around his torso, head resting on his bended knees. A closer inspection reveals that he is all but vibrating out of his skin, with his breath fast and shallow. Of course, at the same time Tony is trying very hard not to show his distress.

"They will find us soon," Steve says, keeping his words light. Casual. He doesn't want Tony to feel pitied and get defensive.

"Yeah yeah," Tony says. "Sure."

And more silence.

Fuck, this isn't good at all. Steve bites his lips, hesitant. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he pretend he didn't notice, and that everything is fine? He would, probably, if he knew they'd get out soon, if only to spare Tony's pride. But Steve has no idea how long they'll be here, and he doesn't want Tony to spiral into whatever is going on in his head right now.

"Talk to me," he finally asks, because seeing Tony so jittery is painful.

Tony looks up and scoffs. "What?"

"Something's wrong. Talk to me, it should make it better," Steve pleads.

"No amount of talking will make this place bigger!" Tony replies with a snort.

"You're claustrophobic?" That is a genuine surprise. "How? You spend a lot of time in a very confining metal suit."

"Of my own making," Tony says. "And the HUD's display makes it easy to forget I'm in a closed armor. Believe me, I never feel trapped while in the suit. This has nothing to do with that."

Tony springs to his feet and starts to pace. Six steps, turn. Six steps, turn. It's probably to burn off excess thoughts and worry, though it doesn't look as if it's working. What Steve understands is that Tony is uneasy from more than being in a small place, but what is he nervous about, exactly? He keeps rubbing at his sternum and Steve almost knocks his head back against the wall to punish himself for being so stupid. Afghanistan. Tony's been captured before, tortured too.

"I won't let them hurt you," Steve blurts out before clenching his jaw shut.

It doesn't even slow Tony's pacing, but he throws Steve a smirk.

"I appreciate the sentiment Cap, but they might pump you full of drugs again before you do any damage."

The thought fills Steve with dread: they incapacitated him fast on that roof, and if the kidnappers do it again, they'll be able to hurt Tony. That is unacceptable. He gets back up and inspects the door once again. During that time, Tony gives the ceiling a closer look. He walks over to Steve, leans in, and while putting a hand up to shield the sound Tony whispers in his ear.

"They might have cameras or bugs, so plans have to be hush-hush." Tony's breath is hot and makes Steve shiver. He nods.

"I can maybe access the building's power from the light fixtures. Short the whole thing, and hopefully it will unlock the door," Tony whispers next.

Tony is going for confident, but Steve knows how minuscule the odds are that it would work.

At his turn, Steve cups Tony's ear and murmurs. "How can I help?"

The back and forth is incredibly intimate. At least for Steve, because Tony seems to have laser focus once again, his earlier panic forgotten now that he has a plan.

"Give me a second and then boost me up?"

In direct contradiction to what he just said, Tony sits down on the floor and fiddles with the hem of his dress pants. Steve crouches by his side and is about to ask what he's doing when Tony makes a pleased sound and pulls out a thin wire. It shines, and Steve realize it's copper.

"You have copper wire sewn in your clothes?" he whispers. Fuck, that came out way louder than he wanted.

How paranoid must one be to do that?

Tony snorts and kneels by Steve's side, back at talking in his ear.

"Obviously it was a good idea. I wish they'd left the shoes, because they have a wire in the sole too, and also a homing beacon, a pocket knife and a screwdriver," Tony says. He makes a face. "They probably caught that with an x-ray scan."

"Could be. But they took my shoes too," Steve replies, gesturing to his socked feet. A bummer, since it was one of the few pair of dress shoes he has that is starting to be comfortable.

"They had a homing beacon too," Tony says, as if it's totally normal. "Standard Avengers issue."

"What?" Okay, so Steve's reaction wasn't whispered at all. If someone is watching, they have to wonder what they're talking about like that, back and forth in each other's space and being secretive.

Tony glances at him, then away and down rapidly, evasive. He leans in again. "It's not as creepy as it sounds. It's never used to track anyone, but we can light it up if someone disappears."

Steve raises his eyebrows, because that's still a little creepy.

"I never used it, I swear," Tony mouths, raising his hands up defensively.

When Steve doesn't reply, still digesting that, Tony leans in again. Nothing gets Tony talking like having to explain why he did something he feels was justified.

"Not even when I really wanted to, like when Bruce left after Sokovia. I would have talked to you about it before turning it on."

Steve is about to say that the Hulk has no shoes, but he prefers not to know where Tony put the tracker. Now is not the time to fight, but he's not forgetting the issue either; they'll revisit the subject once they’re out of this place.

"Tony..."

"FRIDAY must have informed the team about how and where my beacon has traveled by now. If we're lucky, the kidnappers found the trackers right here while undressing us, and then destroyed them. It would show this building as our last known location. If the assholes who took us are a little more intelligent than that, they sent our shoes with goons to travel halfway around the globe instead."

There's no way to know. Steve sure hopes it's the former scenario, but since they don't know who captured them yet, their captor's intelligence is hard to assess.

"Can we focus on getting out of here?" Tony asks. He's been keeping Steve in a loose embrace, arms over his shoulder and face close to his ear to say all of this. As much as Steve enjoys the proximity, he nods because they do have to act before the kidnappers show themselves. "Okay," Tony adds. "If they're watching us, we won't have long. So you boost me up, I break the glass and short the lights."

"How?"

Tony pokes him with the copper wire.

"No I mean how do you break the glass?" He wishes he had his shield.

"Two good hits at the right place and it should shatter. I'll use my elbow."

"You'll hurt yourself," Steve protests.

"I'll bruise, so what."

Bad idea, when Steve can do it and heal in minutes. "I can jump and punch, tell me where."

"I'm sure you can but there's no need."

Steve crosses his arms. He won't help Tony up so he can end up hurt from the get go.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine." He points at the ceiling. "Right here first."

Nothing about the place he's showing seems to highlight that it's a weak point, but Steve trusts that Tony knows what he's doing.

Steve nods. As soon as they start this, they are on the clock. He crouches and then jumps, putting all of his strength behind the hit, made with the heel of his hand. The shock of it resonates through his arm, but the way the glass cracks like a spiderweb looks promising.

"Alright," Tony says, grinning. No need to whisper anymore. "Right here now, Captain Kangaroo. Cover your face."

Steve would have hit the same spot, but Tony's pointing a good foot to the left of it. He then hunkers down against the wall, protecting his head with his arms. Steve repeats the maneuver and curls inwards as he falls back to the ground, the glass shattered and raining on him. Luckily, he doesn't get nicked, or very little. Looking concerned, Tony shuffles over to avoid stepping on glass, but nods after dusting off Steve's hair, satisfied he's not hurt. If Tony had broken the glass with his elbow, there would have been a lot more than bruises. And he knew that, too. 

Tony looks up at the exposed lights and pushes Steve slightly to the left. He then climbs onto his back. Steve does his best to offer foot holds, but Tony is much more agile than he'd thought - heavier, too - and is soon perched on his shoulders.

"Frankly, when I imagined climbing you like a tree, it was in very different circumstances," Tony mutters, yanking on the neon tubes. 

Steve almost stumbles, shocked. Surely Tony didn't mean that the way it sounded, right? But there’s no time to dwell on the possibility that his feelings are returned. They're in the dark, now, and Steve wonders how Tony will even sabotage the electric system if he can't see what he's doing. He shouldn't have worried, because five seconds later, there's a loud pop.

"Ah fuck," Tony curses, shaking his arm.

"Are you all right?" Of course he had gotten shocked, the wire was completely exposed. Steve wonders why he didn't think of that, and if he'd have agreed to Tony's plan knowing he planned to hurt himself in the process.

"I'm fine. I'm used to it, it only tingles. But I'm pretty sure it didn't work, dammit."

Tony slides down Steve's back, careful when he reaches the ground. He shuffles to the door again and groans when it's still locked.

"Different system, of course. Sorry."

"It was a long shot, anyway. We tried."

"Yeah, but now not only are we caught in a small room, we're in the dark too and there's glass everywhere."

Steve hears soft banging: Tony is hitting his forehead against the metal door, and his breathing is turning shallow again. He walks to him, puts his hand against the door to catch Tony's next attempt at hitting the metal surface. Tony leans into his palm and sighs while Steve brings his other hand up to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's okay. We'll be fine."

Tony nods and doesn't shake him off. He even seems to be calming down at the contact and is leaning into it. Emboldened, Steve shuffles closer himself until he's hugging Tony from behind, arm loose around his middle. He's surprised that Tony doesn't tense up and push him away, if only to cover up that he needs to be reassured. Of course Steve cannot leave well enough alone.

"What was that about imagining climbing me like a tree?"

It makes Tony laugh. "Caught that, huh? Don't worry about it. I have those thoughts for pretty much anyone who is attractive. It doesn't mean anything."

"Oh. Well that's disappointing."

Crushing, in fact. That's the problem with hope, even if it's only minutes old: when it's snuffed out, it hurts. Instead of his words coming off as a joke, his tone must let his emotions show, because that's when Tony tenses. Carefully, Steve disengages from their embrace and tries to step away, heart racing. He’s somewhat thankful that their current circumstances lets him hide how red he must be, how much he’s blushing. He also has no idea how to save this.

"Wait wait wait," Tony says, turning around. "What?"

"What? Nothing."

God, he sounds way too defensive. _Way to go, good job giving yourself away, Steve,_ he thinks.

"Don't nothing me. Are you saying you might not be averse to a situation where I'd climb you like a tree?"

Steve never considered coming clean with his feelings, because he was sure they were unrequited. He thought they would fade, that it was just a crush, but they haven't. Maybe it's time to get it over with, to jump without a parachute and see where he falls. He won't compromise on what he wants, though.

"Not if it means nothing."

The sex would be great, that's a given, but not enough to counter the eventual heartbreak when Tony got tired of him.

"Holy shit," Tony breathes out. Steve blinks when he feels Tony reach out and grab a fistful of his shirt, as if he needs the support. "Feelings?"

The tone is disbelieving but so hopeful that Steve snort-laughs.

"Of course feelings."

"What do you mean 'of course feelings'? That is not an intuitive leap at all. I’m not-" he stumbles in his babbling, starts again, "you could have anyone."

Steve has learned to hate how insecure Tony not so secretly is, hidden under the boasting done in his public persona. Earlier, he welcomed the darkness, but right now Steve would love to look Tony in the eyes to show and prove to him him how invested he is. He tentatively reaches up, finds the side of Tony's face with the tip of his fingers, making him gasp in surprise.

"I want you."

"But…"

Steve rests his hands on the top of Tony's shoulders. Lightly. Carefully.

"You are a good man, a hero, you give while expecting nothing in return. We don't always agree, and sometimes you are infuriating, but I need that. I need a challenge, I need someone who will force me to see things differently. I can be stuck in my ways and you're everything that is good and thrilling about the future."

The words come out easily, from the heart, but he can feel Tony fidgeting, resisting the very idea of them.

"I wish I could see you, you can't lie for shit."

"I'm not lying. I wouldn't lie about this, come on," Steve says. Tony knows him better than that.

"Well you think that, now, maybe. But infuriating won't always be cute," Tony objects.

"You're infuriating right now! Did you hear anything else I said?"

Wrong thing to say, Tony lets go of Steve's shirt, tries to step back. "See? I would inevitably fuck this up. You don't want a mess like me."

It's like something snaps in Steve. He doesn't want Tony's insecurities messing up this chance, he knows they'd be so good together. Steve boxes Tony in against the door, can feel how fast he's breathing against him. He would flee if he could, but it's impossible, and this is Steve’s one chance.

"I do. You don't get to decide for me, whether it’s about what I want or what I don't need. I love you as you are, the Tony Stark I learned to know. No one is perfect, let alone me."

Tony is completely still, barely breathing, and it seems extreme until Steve realizes he used the word love. It's true, but it may have been premature to admit it since Tony's feeling spooked already.

"I don't know how to make myself clearer than this," Steve says. He's trying hard to stay as calm and as rational as he can be right now.

Still no movement. Tony's not objecting, but he definitely doesn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect of starting a relationship with Steve either. It's disappointing, to say the least.

"Come on, Tony," he cajoles. "Work with me here. Are you interested or not?"

The answer comes through Tony's hands landing on his chest again, then rapidly climbing to his neck then face to pull Steve into a kiss. Maybe it's because of the complete darkness, but everything else fades out, leaving just Tony's lips on his and his fingers now sliding through his hair. Steve's insides do a somersault, and he grins when Tony barely pulls off to talk against his lips.

"Interested is a severe understatement," he murmurs. "If you're reckless enough to want this, want me, I'll do everything I can so you never regret it."

"That's the spirit," Steve says, giddy with happiness.

He closes the distance between them, an arm circling Tony's waist and the other around those strong shoulders, and presses him against the door to kiss him again. Tony's tongue touches his lower lip and Steve readily gives him access to his mouth with a groan. Steve’s had fantasies about how Tony would kiss, and he's not surprised he more than meets his expectations. It's a soft and thorough exploration, and brain-meltingly hot. He gives back as good as he can, eager, maybe a tad desperate. He's wanted this, so much. Tony's hands are on his back, his nails raking down slowly, lighting Steve up everywhere. He keens when those maddening hands close on his ass and pull him in closer.

"Jesus, Steve," Tony says, breaking the kiss to pant hotly against his mouth. "You're so fucking responsive. The things I'll do to you…"

And fuck, there's nothing he wants more than to give into those urges. He's hard as a rock and can feel that Tony is just as aroused, but it's becoming clearer by the second that sadly real life will soon get in the way.

"You'll have to hold that thought," he says reluctantly, pulling away as much as Tony lets him, which is not that much.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?"

"I hear gunshots," Steve says, exhaling. He doesn't want to stop holding Tony, and drops his forehead on his shoulder. A second later, faint but recognizable, he has confirmation that the cavalry is coming. "And that was the Hulk."

"Are you kidding me?" Tony says. He sounds outraged. "They couldn't wait, like, ten minutes?"

Steve laughs. "Ten minutes, huh?"

"Sweetheart," Tony purrs, biting Steve's earlobe. "In ten whole minutes I'm pretty sure I could have made you come twice."

And fuck, the new wave of arousal he feels at Tony’s words is like a punch to the gut. Steve is deeply embarrassed by the little helpless sound he can't keep in.

"Still not too late for at least once," Tony suggests smugly, a hand trying to snake towards Steve's dick.

Steve captures it and raises it so he can kiss Tony's knuckles.

"Tempting, very tempting. But I want to see you the first time we do it." He feels suddenly self-conscious and old-fashioned. "Is that corny?"

Tony cups his cheek, then slides his hand into the hair at Steve's nape, gently carding his fingers in the short strands. He also kisses Steve's temple, one, two, three times. It's tender and loving and it feels so good that Steve's eyes well up with a surge of emotion.

"No, no, you're absolutely right. I'm overeager, sorry. I'll do this properly, woo you like you deserve."

Steve laughs, and plasters his smile that won't quit in the crook of Tony's neck.

"I'm already wooed."

"Which is wonderful, as I didn't even try."

"You are just that amazing," Steve says, grinning.

Tony laughs at this, that giggling thing that has turned Steve's heart to mush for months now. God, he wishes he could see him, how he gets bright like sunshine when he is genuinely amused. In the background, Steve can hear the fight coming closer and closer, near enough that Tony probably can too.

"Ready to get out of here?" Steve asks.

"Less in a hurry than ten minutes ago, but yes." As he speaks, Tony squeezes Steve's nape one last time and then starts... to undress? It sure feels like it.

"What are you doing?" Steve all but squeaks when Tony pulls on his shirt too.

"Untucking our shirts, which hopefully will somewhat hide the tent in my pants? Just a suggestion."

"Oh, right, that makes sense," Steve agrees.

It might not be sufficient to conceal everything, but maybe the upcoming battle and escape will be enough of a distraction.

"Okay!" Tony exclaims once he’s done. "Seems as if they are almost here, we should make some noise of our own."

They'll get on that. First, though, Steve finds Tony's face, cups his jaw in one hand and brings him into one more kiss. Then he pounds on the door with his other fist. The sooner they are free the better, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy the last minutes of their captivity.

What’s for sure is that kissing Tony is distracting and addictive. The man does wicked things with his tongue, and he seems determined to drive Steve mad with lust, all talk of waiting for a proper time to do this aside. But it's not only that - just being close like this and knowing he's wanted back is heady.

[](https://imgshare.io/image/2Vt5d)

Steve is distracted; he hadn't realized rescue was _this_ close, which results in him almost falling down into the corridor when Hulk rips their door off its hinges. Steve has to scrunch his eyes closed for a second: the assault of light after the pure darkness from before is blinding.

"Tony!" Hulk exclaims, throwing the door away and bringing Tony into a hug.

Steve tries to keep Tony close to himself by reflex - he finally had him in his arms, dammit - but he knows when he's beaten. Hulk doesn't express affection much, but he loves his Tin Man and wouldn't hesitate to punt Steve away.

"Oh, hey Big Green!" Tony says, tapping the huge arms coiled around him. "I'm fine, Buddy. Thanks for the rescue!"

Right behind Hulk are Sam and Rhodey, pistols in hand and game faces on. They both relax when they see them unharmed.

"What is it with you and getting kidnapped?" Rhodes complains, grabbing Tony as soon as Hulk lets him go.

"I'm just that awesome? Everybody wants me?" Tony jokes, but he's not wrong.

Steve hopes he's not too flushed and focuses on Sam who is striding over, smile wide on his face and the shield on his arm. He looks good with it.

"You all right, man?" he asks, eyes roaming up and down Steve, who is very thankful for his untucked shirt.

"Yeah, we're okay," Steve reassures. In fact, he’s feeling better than he has in a long time.

Hulk, reassured that Tony is fine, peers down the corridor they came from, as if yearning for the sounds of the battle that is still ongoing there.

"Go," Steve says, gesturing. They'll catch up soon. Hulk doesn't wait another second and runs back where the action it.

When Steve looks at the others again, he makes eye contact with Tony, who gives him a small smile, almost bashful. It was easy to be forward and bold, in the dark, but out there for everyone to see they’re back to being tentative and careful. Steve's heart picks up at how fantastic Tony looks with his disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips. He did this, he made Tony look like that, and a surge of possessive pride swells in his chest at the thought. 

"What the hell happened here?" Rhodes asks, peering into the cell. There is glass all over the ground and the light from the corridor makes it even more obvious how tiny the room actually is.

"Nothing much," Tony says with a shrug, though he winks at Steve, who almost laughs.

"Why would you even try to short out the lights?" Rhodes asks, looking critically at the ceiling.

Tony's attention is back on Rhodes and he winces. "I had to try _something_."

It's true they felt powerless in there. Now, at last, Steve knows he can be useful. He takes his shield back from Sam and its familiar weight on his arm is a comfort. It would be better with shoes or boots, but he'll make do.

"What's the status?" he asks Sam, inclining his head towards where the Hulk disappeared. There are sparse gun shots, but they seem relatively far away.

"It's a question of minutes. The rats have started leaving the ship." Not unusual, since it's very rare that the people they fight stand their ground until the end. There are always henchmen or mercenaries that run away as soon as the Avengers get the advantage in battle. Or they scuttle away when they arrive, that happens too.

"Who is it?" Tony asks.

Steve worries that Tony will step on glass with his bare feet. Heck, it's lucky he didn't while they were in the dark. As if he is reading Steve's mind, Rhodes gently pushes Tony towards the other side of the hallway.

"Looks like AIM," Rhodes answers.

Tony scowls. "I thought they'd completely disbanded. I don't like it, they have a very effective sedative."

"Yeah, we saw that on the roof security tapes," Rhodes says. "Are you okay?"

"Always," Tony tells him with a wink and a light shove, and not for the first time Steve is envious of their rapport.

"Let's go," Steve says, while taking point for their little group.

The faster they get out of here, the better.

There's a brief scuffle with a man in tac gear who tried to escape by running their way, but all in all it's totally anticlimactic. They are soon out of the building, and SHIELD is already starting to round up the AIM agents still on site.

"Are you guys okay?" Nat asks, once they regroup near the Quinjet.

"We're good," Steve says as they board.

It would be best if Tony got checked out, just to be sure that the sedative wasn't harmful, but he knows suggesting it won't fly. It might be a cop out, but Steve doesn't want to fight with Tony right now. As he plans on keeping a very close eye on Tony in the foreseeable future, he'll hopefully notice if something's not right. 

Steve glances at Tony by his side - their regular spot when Clint is piloting the Quinjet - only to note that he's lost in thoughts. In fact, he's starting to fidget, and Steve would bet he's still thinking too much about how their relationship could crash and burn.

It's instinct to reach for Tony's hand and squeeze it in reassurance. _We'll face whatever is to come together,_ he tries to convey through the touch. He moves to take his hand back, but it's a happy surprise when Tony interlocks their fingers instead, there for everyone to see. Heck, it's almost more of a thrill than the earlier making out, with how fast it makes Steve's heart race.

Around them the team is chatting as usual, but it falls away to background noise as Steve's universe centers on Tony again.

They've got this. Each other.

For certain, Steve is locking this in tight - he doesn't plan on ever letting go. 

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you so much to @shadowolf19 for the fantastic art that you saw in the story! As I said, please go see it through this [link to related work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101511),(and also on Tumblr soon! I will link here later) and him the praise he deserves :)
> 
> Also, I want to profusely thank the lovely @ishipallthings who did a fantastic beta job for this story. Much love to you my dear! I had the chance to win their beta services through the Marvel Trumps Hate auction, and cashed in for this story.
> 
> If you want to add me on other platforms, I am @gottalovev pretty much everywhere but Lou on DW :)
> 
> I hope you liked the story, and thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Locked In [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101511) by [Shadowolf19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowolf19/pseuds/Shadowolf19)




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